


White Flowers On Steel Toe Boots

by Dynamic_Ideation



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barry's good at that, F/M, Fluffy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Pining, Smut, because clearly I'm incapable of writing without adding smut, strangers AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-07 21:59:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4279452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dynamic_Ideation/pseuds/Dynamic_Ideation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry Allen is the owner of a humble hardware store, and somehow Iris West becomes his best customer. Their blossoming friendship is full of affection, longing, and painful truths. </p><p> <br/>“How'd you know my...?”<br/>“Your name tag, Silly.” Her soft brown eyes peek from beneath feathered lashes, playful. Barry’s own eyes soften at the corners, taking all of her in.<br/>She turns and she's gone. It felt like the store just got hit by a hurricane. Not a breeze, but a storm. What a woman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t even tell you guys how excited I am; this will be the longest creative written piece I’ve ever completed! Probably only twelve thousand words, but still! Westallen is making me into a better writer! I will probably making periodic edits as needed. Also, sorry the chapters are so short, they just seemed like natural places to insert breaks. 
> 
> Also, I had no idea movie Flash's name would actually be Ezra. I just happened to like it for this particular supporting character. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! As always, I would LOVE to hear comments and feedback, I live for it!

The tarnished, tired bell dings over the door of Bill's Hardware Store. Only the bell still sounds bright, and this is not Bill's store anymore, it's Barry's. He’d just plugged in the cheap neon “open” sign; it’s buzzing and hissing in its old age, but still inviting Central City’s citizens in for hammers and nails and putty. This would be the first customer of the day. Barry seeks them out; it's always been important to him to add as much of a personal touch as he can. 

The customer is a woman. But she's not just any woman. She's...wow. He's not sure what else he can say about her besides wow. High cheekbones, full lips, soft brown skin. Her baggy black sweats try to shroud her great figure but can’t manage. …Maybe he could say that she’s like the cut of a cool breeze on an unbearably hot day.

A certain shyness fills him, but he swallows it down. “Can I help you with something, Miss?”  
“Yes, can I speak to a manager?”  
“Actually, I can do you one better. I'm the owner.”  
“Fabulous!” She beams a radiant smile at him. Wow. He can't help but return it. He reflects her smile off of his own face, and it bounces back to her, just as wide. “I was looking for something very specific,” the cool breeze tells him, “I was wondering if you guys carry it.” She details to him what she's looking for.  
“Oh yeah?” Barry tries to play it cool, masculine, savvy. “Those are pretty hard to find. I don’t carry any here, and you won’t find any within a forty-mile radius. What do you know about belt sanders, anyway?” He asks with a chuckle. She pauses and gives him a look, head slightly tilted, perfectly arched eyebrows aloft, and he knows he's said the wrong thing. 

“Why shouldn't I know about them?”   
“Oh, uh-“ Barry stutters and tries to backpedal while she crosses her arms under her breasts and politely lets him have it.   
“While I understand that I am a woman, and a petite one at that, I need you to understand that my knowledge of these power tools is far-reaching. Not only do I have intimate knowledge of everything you carry in this store of yours, I also have extensive experience with everything you have available here. I could use a caulking gun and lay tile before I went to Headstart.” She took a step forward, into his space. “I can cut down a forty foot Oak tree in 30 seconds flat right now.” She looked him up and down, deliberately, as if to say he was an Oak tree that needed chopping down. “Can you do that?” Barry shook his head, almost fearfully. He must look like a beet right now. “Please don't label me with your sexist stereotypes,” she continues, a tight smile on her face. “Not only do I hang with the boys, I do better than the boys.”

Barry held his hands up in defeat, and morphed back into his typical nerdy self. “The boots should have tipped me off,” He offers jokingly, nodding at her heavy steel toes.“I apologize. I really, truly do. That was sexist and condescending, and I will not make any more assumptions about women and power tools, especially not when they come to spend their money at my store. Lesson learned.”  
She softened. “You should apologize more often. You really are sensational at it.”  
“Do it enough times, you get pretty good. These situations aren't rare. I mean, not, not sexist situations, not those,” he corrected quickly, “I mean situations where I have to apologize.” 

“Don't worry about it.” The shining smile returned. She had clearly enjoyed reading him the riot act. “I never would have thought you were the owner. You look waaaayy too young. But I don't go around advertising my misconceptions. You should try that, Barry.”  
“How'd you know my...?”  
“Your name tag, Silly.” Her soft brown eyes peek from beneath feathered lashes, playful. Barry’s own eyes soften at the corners, taking all of her in.   
She turns and she's gone. It felt like the store just got hit by a hurricane. Not a breeze, but a storm. What a woman.  
Then it occurs to him that he could have asked for her name and number, so he could give her a call when he found her belt sander. Dammit. That was stupid, Barry. He might never see her again. She'd probably find what she was looking for somewhere else. 

“Boss!” He heard Ezra calling him. Ezra is the sixty some-odd year old store manager. He was like an old bull; grizzled, stocky, and ornery as all hell. All he was missing was the ring through his nasal septum.  
It had taken a while for him to get used to Barry being his boss, seeing as he was 35 years his junior and didn’t know jack shit about home improvement. He had started out calling him “Boss” out of derision. Luckily the sharp edge was gone when he said it now, but it had taken the whole year. 

“Chuck’s callin’. Bitchin’ about whatever bug’s up his ass today.”  
Barry’s head lolled back. That goddamn Chuck alway had a gripe.  
“You done getting your ass handed to you by 115 pound women?” Not a hint of sarcasm there.  
“Nope, just taking a break.”  
“You’ll be back at it in no time,” Ezra scoffs.

He thinks about the 115-pound woman. “Let’s hope so.”


	2. Chapter 2

He doesn't see her again for a couple of weeks. He’s been keeping himself busy. All he ever does is work anyway, so he leaves himself with very little downtime. She’s been on his mind, though, here and there. A quick wind now, blowing in then lingering, before melting away.  
But today in she walks, and he can literally feel his pupils dilate to take in the sight of her again. He holds up his index finger at her. one second. He slips around behind the counter and pulls out a box.

“One Aspengroup variable speed belt sander. In blue, I might add.”  
She gasped, “You remembered,” and Barry felt strangely validated.  
“How could I forget?”  
“Nobody's been able to find this. How did you get a hold to it?” She touches the box reverently.  
He shrugged, as his chest was swelling slightly. “I have a good head for research. And I know some people.”  
“Holy shit.” Even her cuss words are sexy. “How much do you want for it?”  
“Well, it has its original price, but in order to make up for our misunderstanding from before, I can take a bit off that. Gotta have happy customers.”  
“And you've got one! Please take my money!” she joked.  
“Also…are those flowers I saw on your boots?”  
“Yeah. I drew them on with a white-out pen.”  
“Why?”  
She smiled and shrugged. “So they could be a lil’ bit more girly.”  
“Wait a minute, you went off on me about being sexist, but you have flowers drawn on your men’s workboots?” Barry asked with a sardonic grin.  
“Yes.” She said and didn’t offer any further explanation. Barry laughed and shook his head in wonder. 

“Hey, I didn't catch your name last time.” He holds his hand out and she gives it a firm but warm shake.  
“It's Iris.” For a woman who does construction work, she sure does have soft, delicate hands.  
“Hmm, Hurricane Iris. Nice to make your acquaintance.” Iris doubles over laughing, and Barry wonders what other jokes he can crack to keep her laughing like this. 

He starts to see her every week or two after that. He feels, sometimes, that maybe he's looking forward to it too much. She comes for supplies often, clad in overalls and a t-shirt, or coveralls, everything stained with cement, caulk and paint. And of course, she wear her boots. She drives the company-West Construction-pickup like a guy. Sometimes a couple of his employees load the truck for her. Sometimes she helps them load, because she’s never been one to shy from getting her hands dirty. Ezra gets cranky when he has to do it. They ignore him because he’s always cranky, but even he snarls a bit less when Iris is around.  
Barry and Iris talk. Usually five minute conversations. If he’s lucky she’ll get held up, or need to talk in-depth about an order, and then drift into other subjects.  
As time wears on he catches fleeting thoughts creeping into his head, about spending time with her outside the store. She looks like she likes basketball. Maybe baseball. A game would be fun. She’d probably heckle the hell out of the umpire. She seemed like the type. 

He starts to imagine them going to movies on Friday nights, taking her shopping, going out with her in full makeup and stiletto heels, dressed to kill, where he would get envious looks from other men. He thinks about draping his entire rangy body over her small frame while they lie on their couch (they couch they share together, because they live together) watching HGTV and The Walking Dead.  
He imagines the arguments. They would be crazy. And the makeup sex. She’s tiny, especially compared to him; she would be easy to toss around in bed. He pictures that ass in a thong...no, boy shorts. White, because they'd look damn good on her skin. He can peel them off and she can have a seat on his face and then his dick. 

She's clearly a feminist, so she could work on the house while he makes dinner. They could get a dog and co-parent it. And in the future, maybe more.  
He imagines himself with her, and thinks it's ridiculous. Girls like her don't go for guys like me, he thinks. But at the same time, he would never know unless he tried. And at the same time, he needed to know if she was taken. So far a boyfriend hadn't come up; but what were the chances she was single?


	3. Chapter 3

“Where’s the fire?”  
“What?” She doesn’t get the joke. Of course not. Barry tries to look casual as he grabs hold to the flip-down handle over the passenger window. It’s hard because he’s getting some real one-on-one time with the object of his desire, and because he’s probably in mortal danger. 

They’re on their way to a lumberyard. Iris’ driving is aggressive and it's hilarious, because she can't see that well over the steering wheel. Barry tries conversation to keep his mind off the blurred scenery flashing past his window. 

“So what do you do with yourself when you’re not running people off the road?” She looks over at him and winks.  
“I’m in grad school at Central U,” she calls over the roar of the diesel engine and the wind from the open window. “I’m studying linguistics, but I work right alongside the men on the sites a lot of days.”  
“They don’t harass you?”  
“I think a guy tried it, a long time ago, and my dad ate him for lunch. It’s his company.”  
“I see.” So he should be afraid of her father. Good to know up front.  
As it happens, Iris knows Spanish, and can hold a decent conversation in Portuguese, and is thinking maybe French should be next.  
“That’s wild,” Barry says, impressed. He asks her to say something to him in Spanish. She does. 

“Eres como una jirafa, alto y flaco.” You're like a giraffe, tall and skinny.  
“What did you say?”  
“I said you are an impressive businessman.”  
“No you didn't.”  
“Nope. I didn't.” They crack up laughing. 

The boyfriend finally comes up. Because he brings it up.  
“So you have the education and the job. Where’s the boyfriend?”  
She gets a gentle, far-away look in her eyes, and he can tell she’s thinking of someone. “He’s around. Probably getting himself into some nonsense.” An affectionate smile. 

Ah, so there is a boyfriend. Of course there is. Hiding his disappointment is an uphill battle. It wounded him more than he expected, and left him with something of a void in the center of his chest. He changes the subject. They pick up what they need, and he rides with her to one of the construction sites.

When they get there a taller, middle-aged man turns and stands. He heads toward the truck. From that far away he’s already intimidating.  
Too soon, Barry thinks. Too soon!

“Hi Dad!” Iris turns into a giggling grade-schooler and runs to hug him. “Dad” gives Barry a scrutinizing look that makes him want to wither away.  
“Dad, this is Barry Allen. He's the store owner, the one that gives me the deals and finds the rare tools for me.”  
This seems to lighten him up a bit. “Joe West. Good to know you, Mr. Allen.” They shake hands, and Barry takes note of the crushing grip and tries to crush back. But not too much. He’s afraid of the man, the last thing he wants to do is challenge his dominance.  
“Oh no, please, it's Barry, Sir.” That seems to please him. Good.  
“You own that store? You look awfully young.” Barry and Iris exchanged a glance.  
“Yes Sir, a lot of saving and hard work.” he said with a shy smile and a shrug.  
Joe West lifts his eyebrows and nods. “Good for you, Son. Very impressive.”  
“Well, thanks.” Barry probably shouldn't have been as flattered as he was under the praise of a man he'd never met before, but he was.  
“We just wanted to drop this stuff off,” Iris tells him. “I’m gonna take Barry back and then I’m off to study.”  
“Okay, Baby.” He kissed her on the forehead.  
“Good to meet you, Mr. West.”  
“I’ll be seeing you, Barry.” He wasn’t sure if it was a goodbye or a warning.


	4. Chapter 4

After seeing her a few more times, and desperately avoiding the subject, he can’t hold back his curiosity anymore. While they’re looking at laminate flooring, he asks about the boyfriend.

“Oh. That guy.” She gets the faraway look again, the gentle smile. “He works for my dad. That’s how we met. We hid it for a while, because I knew my dad would want his head, until he told me he couldn’t keep doing it because he wanted everybody to know we were together and that he’s in love with me.”  
“Romantic.”  
“He’s…” she shakes her head and smiles again, “kind. And gentle. And strong. And stubborn-“  
“Sounds like somebody I know.” She elbowed him in the side.   
“- Stubborn. Funny example; I keep telling him about sunscreen but like a typical human man-person, he doesn't listen to me. In the summer he comes home as red as a lobster. Then I have to deal with him peeling. It's just as sexy as it sounds. He knows Swedes are not built for direct sunlight.” She suppresses a laugh at the thought.

“Swedes?” They shuffle sideways down the aisle like a pair of human crabs.  
“His ancestry, yeah.”  
“He's white?”  
She chuckled. “As white as they come. Blue-eyed and blond, the whole nine yards.” She examines the types of trims he carries, absent-mindedly.  
“I didn't think...”  
“That I'd be dating a white guy?”  
“Well-”  
“When you assume you make an ass out of you and me.” Barry grimaced. Iris only laughed. “See the thing is, Eddie is a good man, regardless of what color he is. Do we get looks and discourtesy? Of course. Are there cultural differences? Of course. But he doesn't waste time with all that 'I'm colorblind' nonsense. Because that's all that is. Nonsense. We have open, honest dialogue about America and race relations and differences. And at the end of the day our differences make us love each other even more. Bring us closer together. You know?”  
“Yeah. That’s cool.”

So him being a nerdy white guy wasn’t a problem. Sweet. He knew there was a lot that he…didn’t know, but he was glad to know she was open to awkward questions. One less barrier. Now if only the boyfriend would go away. 

“So why isn't there a Mrs. Barry?”  
“I, uh…” He shuffles a few more steps, shoulder raised and hands in his jeans pockets.   
“Because you’re a workaholic. And because you’re shy.” She says with a knowing smile. “If you did have a crush on a girl, would you even say anything to her?”  
“Probably not.” Definitely, absolutely not.  
“Tsk, tsk. Life's too short, Bear.” Bear. He liked that.  
This time, when she leaves, he imagines that she’s talking about him when she gets that faraway look.

He eventually strikes up a deal with Joe. Oh yeah, and now he’s able to call him “Joe”. That’s some serious progress, although he still “Sir’s” him often.  
“Oh yeah, what are they charging you?” Joe gives him a number.  
“For paint and primer? That’s crazy. I can save you fifteen percent.”  
“Oh yeah?”  
“Oh yeah.” He said it with the confidence of a man who already knew he could do that. It was a complete bluff. He had no idea where he could get those materials for that price, but in the interest of growing his business, he would damn sure figure it out.   
By the end of the day the deal was safely set which meant he would be seeing more of her. It was terrible and wondrous all at once. 

“So,” he asks one day, “what are you gonna do with all this education you're getting?” Their extended conversations were now much more commonplace.   
She looked at him and busted out laughing. “I have no idea!”  
“None?”  
“Well, there are a ton of possibilities. I could use my degree and language skills to get in on the ground floor at some big corporation...”  
Barry shakes his head. “Nah.”  
“Same thing I said.” she wrinkles her nose in disdain. Barry grins. She’s just so damn cute. “I could be a translator. For anybody. Maybe a non-profit. Maybe freelance. Maybe the U.N.” she wiggled her eyebrows at him. “I would love to teach English abroad. Maybe get my PhD and be a professor at a foreign school or university. At least for a little while. My dad would be lonely if I was gone too long, I think.”  
“Huh,” Barry said, impressed yet again. “I never even thought about leaving Central City.”  
“And why not?”  
“I don't know...the thought just never occurred to me. But now that you mention it there's got to be more out there. More than just this.” He swept his hand in circles, gesturing at his illustrious hardware kingdom.  
“Barry, my friend, you have no idea.”

The next day he finds that she’s left him a travel book; one about Scotland, since he told her his great grandparents were Scottish immigrants. He looks over the cultural landmarks, the events, the incredible scenery, and imagines being in the midst of a different way of life. Things looked much calmer, much simpler in Scotland. He could go for that, at least for a little while. 

“Getting wanderlust yet?” She asks, the next time she’s in.   
“I really enjoyed reading it.” He holds it out to her.  
“Keep it.”  
“I’m not sure I’m ready to go globetrotting just yet, though.”  
She rolls her eyes at him. “Eddie’s the same way. He doesn't want to leave at all, isn't even really interested in travel. He keeps talking about kids. Like he wants me to start poppin' em out tomorrow. I'm nowhere near ready for kids.”  
She must have noticed a bit sadness appear in his face.   
“Anyhow, I’m always talking about me. Next time I come in, we'll have to talk about your story.”  
But Barry doesn't really want that. He’s got baggage, enough to make any woman in her right mind turn tail and run. He needs her not to run. He needs…he needs her to always be glad to see him. He may not ever get anything else, so he needs this.

In the morning a gentleman comes in wearing the typical handyman attire. He has a strong build. His hands are rough and calloused. He has some redness on his fair skin where toiling in the hot sun has burned him. He's very...salt-of-the-earth.   
“Help you with something?” Barry asks.  
“Yeah...I'm in the market for a new band saw. I got attached to the old one and now I have no idea what's out there. I keep hearing I should upgrade but...”  
“That old model's like a pair of old shoes. I get it. Well, how about I show you some of the new stuff, and you can decide if you really want to divorce your favorite.”  
“Oh yeah, and I work for West Construction.”  
“Oh yeah, Man, I'll make sure you get the discount. Great guy, Joe West is.”   
“Yeah, he is. …Kind of intimidating for a father-in-law, though. Well, potential father-in-law, maybe someday.” The man was trying to give him a heart attack.

He should have known, though. Tall, movie-star handsome. Blond. Blue-eyed. Odd patches of lobster-red skin.  
“You're with his daughter?”  
“Yeah, Iris. I'm sure you've met her. She comes here all the time.” 

Yeah, he's met her alright.

“Oh, Iris is your girlfriend?”  
“Yeah,” he says and looks down in an aw, shucks sort of way. So this is Eddie. Barry can read all over his face how crazy he is for her.   
“Iris is great.”  
“She really is. She's somethin' else. I got lucky, Man.” Barry tried, but he couldn't dislike the guy.

I can’t even pretend like he’s the asshole who doesn’t deserve her, Barry thinks. Bastard. He’s perfect. Hell, I’d date him, too.

None of the workers can figure out why, for the rest of the day, Barry is short-tempered and testy, having periodic temper tantrums.


	5. Chapter 5

Again he’s avoiding a subject, this time himself. He’s especially reluctant to tell her about his train wreck life now that he can put a face to the man keeping her from him- and after a few weeks she calls him on it.  
“What don’t you want me to know, Barry?” She leans back and narrows her eyes at him in mock seriousness. “Are you a serial killer?”  
“Oh, just because I’m white I’m a serial killer?”  
“I mean, if the shoe fits.” She shrugs. “Black people do drive-bys, white people make girl suits.” Barry slaps his palm over his face and laughs from his diaphragm.  
“Ok, you asked…”

He’s only owned the store for about a year. It’s been a godsend, truly the only good thing to happen in his life since he was very small.  
He was, up until the age of ten, a well-loved suburban private-school kid, in a model nuclear family.  
Then everything changed, and his world was shattered. 

“Because my father,” the words were reluctant to leave his mouth,” stabbed my mother to death.”  
He pushes on before the awkward pause can happen.  
“I saw her. I came downstairs when I heard her screaming. When I got to her she was already gone. 

I don’t know exactly what happened. I couldn’t see everything clearly. And I don’t remember. Sometimes I try not to remember.” He presses on, willing the words to leave his mouth.

“My dad, he’s been in prison for the last fifteen years. I’ve been to see him a few times…but it’s hard. He has always claimed he’s innocent. You don’t know how bad I want to be able to believe him. But what other explanation could there be?”

He had no other family, so in the wake of his shock and grief he started the rollercoaster in and out of foster care. It was especially difficult, because he was so sheltered, and had no street smarts to speak of. He learned quickly how to hold his own against other children, and how to make himself invisible to the adults. It was a steep learning curve.

“My foster families typically were...not nice people.” He smiled a sad smile. He didn't detail the verbal and sometimes physical abuse. He had a feeling she could tell. 

He was hoping to be adopted but, no dice. “People want babies. Preteens, with emotional baggage, not so much.”

Barry never really had a home or a place to belong. It had been a very lonely existence. Had no family, and really no friends to speak of. He had to work. At around twelve he started taking odd jobs, until he hit fourteen, at which time it became legal for him to hold an hourly job. And work he did. He dropped out of high school at fifteen, and that’s all he did. Every day of the week, often sixteen to eighteen hours a day. It kept him out of the house and away from the crazy people he lived with. Kept his mind off of his miserable situation. 

He saved every dime he earned, besides what he had to give up to foster parents of course, not really sure what he would do with it but waiting for his chance. At seventeen he was homeless and wandering. Still working, saving obsessively, and sleeping wherever he could. 

This aging hardware store had been his chance. Then he'd calculated the worth of the store. He saw it was a deal-especially since there was a two bedroom living space above it-and studied more on how he could make it profitable. He'd known nothing about hardware, so he'd studied on his own, day and night, for months learning about the trade. He made it break even, and then he made it profitable. Once he got comfortable he got his GED. He was hoping to try a class at Central City Community College soon.  
“You know, so I can try and get caught up.”  
“And what about Ezra, where did he come from?” She throws in, teasing.  
“I sort of inherited Ezra. He worked for the previous owner for literally like forty years. He knows this place inside and out. Hell, by all rights this should be his store. He’s insanely loyal. He hated me when I first took over the place, because I’m not Bill. He’s gotten used to me, though. Which is good, ‘cause I couldn’t function without him. Fuckin’ crabby old geiser.” he cracked a smile. He waited with baited breath for her response. She hadn’t cut and run yet, so that was a good sign.

“Holy shit, Bear. I’m gonna tell you something. If you never would have told me this, I would never have known. For somebody who’s survived so many unspeakable things, you are so positive, and so determined, and I just can’t figure out how you have such an outstanding personality. And you’re so talented. How did you even do it? How did you thrive after all you’ve been through?”

“I have so much respect for you,” she continued, gazing at him with an earnest expression. “You could have given up. You could have gone down the wrong road. But look at you. You're twenty-five years old and you own your own store. You're a fucking entrepreneur, Barry. That's hot.”  
“You think so?”  
“Course I do.” She nudged his shoulder with her own. “And I get the feeling you think a GED is something to be ashamed of,” she said softly. “It’s not. Everyone doesn’t get the same opportunities in life. Having a degree is a wonderful thing but it’s not everything, and it doesn’t determine your worth. I wish people would stop acting like it does.”

“Well you, know, I'm from the wrong side of the tracks. You come from a good family, nice neighborhood.”  
“Boy, please.”She waved her hand at him. “Did you know Central City has projects? Because that's where I'm from. We had the mice and the roaches and the whole nine yards. I lost my mom at about the same age so...I get that.” Her smile was equally sad. He’d always wondered why he’d never heard anything about her mother; he suspected, but didn’t think it was his place to ask.  
But then she perked up again. “My dad is an amazing guy who built his business from nothing. You guys have a lot in common. The only reason I got the chance to go to school is because my dad slaved away to help support me through it. It took about seven years. I had to go part time and it was…a nightmare. I love being a student. I hate how hard it was just to be one.  
“I’m rambling. Anyway, the point is, everything in life doesn’t happen like it’s supposed to but everything that happens to us is for a reason. What makes the real difference is whether or not you rise above your struggle. I think it’s safe to say you did that, Mr. Allen.”

“I told you waaaaaaayyy more than I planned to.”  
“Of course you did. I have that effect on people. It’s the eyes.”  
“Do you want to get up and run? I won’t hold it against you.”  
“Not at all. You're a really powerful person. Thanks for sharing with me. I know those things are very personal, and it hurts to relive it, and trusting somebody with it is…close to impossible. But you can trust me.” She gently lays her delicate fingers on his wrist, and her touch sends electric pulses shooting up to his brain. He believes her.  
“I’m sorry for all the ways you’ve suffered, Barry. But I think you can start to heal now.” The look she gives him brushes up against his wounded soul. But it doesn’t cause him to draw back, to cover the raw exposed nerves. Rather, it is a balm, soothing and calming. She leans her head on his shoulder. He leans his head on the top of her head. He closes his eyes, breathing in both her scent and a sense of profound peace.


	6. Chapter 6

He felt like something changed that night. She’s in his head, occupying space like she’s paying rent. She won't leave him. She haunts his dreams. The thoughts of spending time with her, of being in her company, they play over and over again. And he rubs his concrete-hard dick, thinking of all the nasty things he'd like to do to her...after taking her to dinner at a five-star restaurant, of course. Iris is a lady, after all. But after dinner she could be dessert, complete with the caramel sauce and whipped cream. And ice. 

Yeah. Ice. 

The next time she comes in, she's wearing her hair up in a messy bun, paint-stained overalls, and a baggy t-shirt full of holes. Her heavy flowered work boots scuff the worn linoleum floor as she walks. Barry takes one look at her and something hits him, something he can't explain. He couldn't describe the feeling in his chest if he tried. It was a feeling so strong it was physiological. 

He was in love with her. 

When did this happen to me? He wondered. how long had it been sneaking up on him? Opening up to her, being so vulnerable with her, and the way she treated him had opened the floodgates, that much he knew.  
She turned her head and saw him, and broke out into her patented smile. It was as if it happened in slow motion. Barry smiled back at her, so hard that it hurt. Shit, I'm in trouble, he thinks. She waves him over to her, a “come here” gesture. 

And then he sees the ring. And another feeling hits him. Another feeling in his chest, but this one like a punch. The air heaved right out of his lungs, and refused to return. It physically hurt to breathe. He felt like he was having some sort of panic attack. She's getting married?  
He had no right to feel this way, no right on Earth to be upset. She was not his. But as much as he would have killed to turn his emotions off, all they did was hammer at him. At his heart, at his mind. He needed to get out of here. Needed to run. But she was heading towards him.

“Barry! I need-“  
He cut her off. “You’re engaged.” She looks at the ring as if she’s surprised it’s there.  
“Yeah! Can you believe it? I'm getting married! Who woulda thunk it?” It really is a nice ring. It must have cost Eddie a fortune.  
“Wow, that's so exciting for you.”  
“I can't even tell you, Barry! I never really thought it could happen to me! That someone would want to marry me!”

Whatever could make you think that? He thought, sadly.

“Whatever could make you think that?” He said aloud, in a much lighter tone than he actually felt.  
“I don't know...I'm so different, you know? So…weird.” She laughed, and gazed at the damn thing. It was glittery and…really big. Barry couldn’t stand the sight of it. It made his stomach turn. 

“The way Eddie proposed is so romantic. He-”  
Barry didn't want to hear about it. He worked hard to mold his expression into one of congratulations, but really his heart was breaking and he had to get out of there. Abort mission.

“Oh, whoops, hey I have to-“ he backed and tried to turn, and walked straight into a metal tree holding small bins, with all different lengths of nails. They sprayed all over. He and Iris both jumped down, picking them up.“Shit.” Barry said. At this point they were all mixed together.  
He gathers a handful too quickly and stabs himself. “Shit!” He jumps up shaking out his hand and puts the injured finger in his mouth. 

Iris stood too, and put her hand on his arm. “Barry, are you feeling alright?” she asked him, her face at a tilt.  
“Why? Do I not look alright?” He kept his back turned away from her.  
“No, you look really shaky. And whiter than usual.” she smiled weakly at her joke, but her face showed concern.  
He peeked over his shoulder at her. He eased forward, out of her reach. He wasn’t sure how to handle her touch right now. “I think I may be coming down with something.” Lovesickness. He needed desperately for this day to be over, but it had only just begun.

“Poor thing. Is there anything I can do?”  
“Nope, nothing you can do to change it. The situation can’t really be helped.”  
She was a bit puzzled. “Okay. I hope you get better soon.”  
“Don’t worry about this, I’ll pick it up. Ezra can help you.”  
“Well, if you’re sure, I’m gonna grab the stuff and I’m set.”  
“I’m sure.”

Later Ezra found him in the back, sitting on a lonely pallet in a dark corner of the supply room, elbows on his knees, face in his hands.  
“I think I'm gonna take off for the day. I'm not feeling so hot. Can you hold down the fort?”  
“You got it, Boss.” The old man put a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry about the girl.” Barry looked up, surprised. Ezra gave him a shrug that said, 'everybody knows' and 'I’m not made of stone, for fuck’s sake'. 

Barry needs a stiff drink. He invites his staff to the dive around the corner for a round on him. It’s going to be more than just one round for him, though.

He’s surprised when Ezra drops down next to him.  
“Damn women,” he growls, his lip curled. “They drive you to drink, make you go broke, make you pull out all your hair.” Ezra trying to show some sympathy is awkward, but he appreciates it nonetheless.  
“Ever been in love, Ezra?”  
“Once. Broad cut my chest open. Been heartless ever since.” I can believe it, Barry thought. But he could still see the hint of sadness hiding behind Ezra’s eyes. “They’re not worth the trouble, I say.” He holds out his bottle, and Barry clinks his against it. Cheers.  
“I’ll drink to that.”

“I’m out of it, and I need it,” Joe tells him a few days later. It's a big order of a specific kind of caulk.  
“Hey don’t worry about it, I know a guy. Let’s just ride over there and I’ll see what I can get out of him.”

Barry rides shotgun to give Joe directions, Eddie and Ezra in the back. Their conversation flows easily, well, besides Ezra’s occasional grunts, and Barry finds that he’s enjoying himself.

It doesn’t surprise him when eventually Iris becomes the topic of discussion.  
Eddie’s leaning forward from the back, in the between the front seats.“Iris loves these specific boots…what are they called…?”  
Barry grins. “Those black Calico steel toes with the rubber soles? That she draws the flowers on to make ‘em girly?”  
Joe’s eyebrows furrow and he sneaks a sidelong glance at Barry. Ezra, who's crowded himself into the corner in his usual standoffish way, takes note but says absolutely nothing.

“Yeah, those! Exactly!” Eddie fell out laughing. “She’s hilarious. It’s cute she thinks flowers make steel toe boots girly.”  
A small smile appeared on Barry’s face and then was gone. It was fast and Joe was distracted by the road, but he knew what he saw.  
The rest of the ride they talked about sports, and the construction business and cracked inappropriate jokes. It was fun, so much so that Barry felt almost disappointed when they dropped him off. He realized that it had been awhile since he’d hung out with friends. He’d never had “time with the guys”. He also had no father or brother. He wondered if there was a way, if he could get over his feelings for Iris, that they could do this more often. Become...maybe friends? Maybe even like a family? No. he was being ridiculous.

He tried to avoid her. He tried to cut their conversations shorter. But he didn’t want her to feel offended. And he just couldn’t stop himself from taking any piece of her he could get.

“The guy at the hardware store likes you.” Joe says.  
“What?! No, he doesn't. Besides, he knows I'm engaged.”  
“Since when has that ever stopped anybody from feeling anything?”  
“Don't be ridiculous, Dad.”  
“I'm just calling it like I see it. He's a good guy, Iris, I like him. Try to let him down easy.”  
“Dad, what are you talking about? How can I let him down when there's nothing going on? He doesn't see me like that.” Joe only held up his hands in an if-you-say-so gesture.  
The thought plagued Iris all day, and all through the next day. She needed to get to the bottom of it. So she popped up at the store. She knew he'd be there; he always was.

She went to Ezra first.  
“Ezra, is Barry…keeping something from me?”  
Ezra didn’t raise his head from his task, but he was on high alert.  
“Like what?”  
“Like, a crush, maybe?”  
He lifted his head slowly to scrutinize her, one eye narrowed and the other squinted. If he’d had a pipe he would have been Popeye. “Wouldn’t know,” he replied, in his gruff way. “Gotta ask the kid.”  
He’d done his part. The kid was on his own.  
“Well, thanks.” She went off in search of Barry.

She found him, in the back stacking boxes, his flannel shirt unbuttoned and hanging open. She caught sight of his hardened and surprisingly well-defined body. She struggled to hide a blush. Why was she even looking? “Hey, I need to ask you something.”  
“What's that?” He set down what was in his hands and came to stand before her. She caught the scent of his overexertion and was surprised at how it piqued her interest. She shook it off and pressed forward.  
“Do you like me? Like, like me, like me? It’s just, somebody brought up-”

Shit. He keeps the panic down. He speaks slowly, and manages not to stammer. “Naaaah. I think you're a great friend and customer and fun to talk to. But that's about where it stops. Besides, you're engaged, for crying out loud.”  
“That's what I told them.”  
“So yeah, I don't want things to feel weird, because they're not weird.”  
“Okay. I feel SO much better!” That stung. He wasn't sure why but, it didn't feel good. “Well, I’m gonna go. I’ll see you later, Barry.” She gave him a small wave. She didn’t think much of her weird thoughts. They were odd, but totally irrelevant and would blow over, she was sure.  
“See you, Iris.”

Somebody noticed. Who could have noticed? He was good at playing it cool! Then he remembered it was himself he was thinking about; he didn’t know the first thing about playing it cool. 

He needed to do better.


	7. Chapter 7

“Guess what, Barry? Guess what, guess what?!” Today she came in bouncing around like a bunny. Barry gave her a look, but inwardly he loved her girly enthusiasm.  
“Soooooooo I’ve been looking for teaching positions overseas, and I saw a post at this prestigious school in Barcelona, and I got a feeling, so I applied, and I did a Skype interview.”  
“And?”  
“They offered me the position. I'm taking it.”  
“That's great!” Before he thought about it he'd swept her up in a hug. Iris didn’t hesitate or start, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, buried her face in his neck and squeezed.  
It was the first time he’d ever held her, in the almost year that he’d known her. 

He stepped back, the realization hitting him. “But that means you're leaving.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Well. I, um, I hate to see you go.” He says it in a voice that's light and casual. He can't afford for her to know how heavy her news is for him. He didn’t think things couldn’t get any worse, but now there would be a marriage AND an ocean between them. He suddenly feels very tired, and very lost.

What was he supposed to do now? Drag his heart along behind him, probably, and watch it get scraped, lacerated and covered in all the grime on the store’s floor. He continued, “I sure am excited for you. This is the type of stuff you always talked about, that you dreamed of doing.”  
“It’s gonna be an adventure!” She clapped her hands like a young child.  
“How does Eddie feel about moving?”  
She sighed. “That’s the problem. He's totally against it.”  
“I'm sure he'll come around. He must know how much this means to you.”  
“I sure hope so. Because I’m going to Spain.” With-or-without-him seemed to be implied.  
I would go with you, he thought to her, I wish I could tell you that. 

The feeling suddenly struck him.  
I have to tell her that. Okay, maybe not that. But I have to tell her. How I feel.  
As much as it terrifies him to think about the consequences of telling her the truth, what terrifies him even more is not knowing. All of the unanswered questions would linger in his house like spirits unwilling to let go. It doesn’t help at all that he’s grown closer to both Joe and Eddie in the months that have passed. 

But it doesn’t matter. He’s done holding back. If he holds it in any longer, he’ll explode. He’s speaking before he realizes it.  
“Hey, I uh, I need to talk to you about something.” He rubs his palms together as if he’s trying to keep warm. He’s worrying at his lip with his teeth.  
“What is it Bear, is everything alright?”  
“Well, I mean, yeah but…can we just talk out back for a minute?”

They sat next to each other on the loading dock, Iris’ legs crossed at the ankles because her feet didn’t reach the ground. Barry’s leaning forward, elbows on knees, fingers interlaced. Things are quiet. Deathly quiet. For some reason that unnerves him. He was desperate for some sort of white noise. The buzzing in his head didn’t count. 

He starts off slowly. “Remember how you said if I had a crush on a girl I should tell her?”  
Iris' eyes lit up. “Oh em gee, you have a crush?!”  
“Yeah...”  
“Well?” She’s so excited for him. His heartache deepens.  
“Well, she's brilliant. She's educated, and well-traveled. She's multilingual.”  
“A girl after my own heart.”  
“And she's gorgeous. Amazing body, if I'm allowed to say that.”  
“Maybe I need to talk to her about her workout plan. So what's her deal? Single, married, straight, lesbian...?”  
“She's...involved. But she's leaving, so I got nothin' to lose. She told me life's too short.” He looks at her to gauge her reaction. He sees the realization set in. Barry looked down, unable to look her in the eye any longer. The words just spill out of his mouth. “I’m in love with you, Iris.” She just looks at him. Not a blank look, not at all. A look that says 'shock' and 'confusion' and how do I process what I just heard? And maybe a hint of, what do I really feel for him?

“Barry…” The way she says his name, low and with a heaviness, is a statement all on its own. She buries her face in her hands, shaking her head. “Why would you tell me this now?”  
“I had to tell you, I needed you to know. Since you’re leaving, I can just be a coward because, I mean, once you’re gone you’ll never have to see me again.”  
“What were you expecting to happen here? For me to leave Eddie to be with you?” She stares daggers into him.  
“No, no, of course not. I want you to be happy in your relationship.”  
“Why did you lie about it before?” Her voice was a bit shrill, a bit sharp, like she wanted to scream at him.  
He started rambling.“When you asked me then we were still going to be working together. Maybe forever, as far as I knew. I was going to find a way to get over it. I wanted to keep things professional, and I didn’t want to make things weird, and I said that, remember, that I didn’t want things to be weird! And I like Eddie and I thought, if I can get past this maybe we can be friends, and I really respect your dad, and I…didn’t want the reaction I’m getting now. But I just…I couldn't lie to you anymore.”  
The silence is tense, and heavy, like a herd of elephants. 

They sit for several long, agonizing minutes, saying nothing, studying the pavement.  
Finally Iris breaks it. Her voice is thick, cloudy. She’s trying to hold back tears.  
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to come to the store again any time soon, Barry. But I want you to take care of yourself.”  
Before he can say anything she hops down off the dock (Barry would have teased her for it, had it been an appropriate time) and walks away, fast, just a step down from running. Maybe running would be too dramatic. 

Welp. Now he knows. 

Hey lies awake in bed that night, listless, lonely, miserable. He thinks about his life and feels exhausted. He’s not sure what the hell he should do next. He pops more Unisom that he should have, wanting only to sleep, to take eight precious hours to pretend his life wasn’t in ruins.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Aaaaaand bring on the real angst! And the smut! he he

Another two weeks has gone by. Barry’s gotten over the worst of his devastation.  
“Heard there’s trouble in paradise,” Ezra had said a week ago, with something that could best be described as a malicious smile. The old man didn’t smile, so it was sort of scary. Iris and Eddie were on the rocks? Hope springs eternal. It took him a while to calm himself over that as well.

The old bell dings over the door, and Barry turns to see Eddie walking in.  
“Hey Eddie, how’s it-“ He registers the rage in Eddie’s face and the deliberation in his walk a moment before the right hook snaps his head all the way to the side. Barry stumbles back in a daze. Eddie is on top of him in a second.  
“You sorry bastard!” Eddie roars, “you son of a bitch!”  
Ezra storms out from the back. “What in the sam hell…?”

Barry isn't new to fighting and recovers quickly. He can’t avoid the next right Eddie throws; it catches him dead is his eye and he sees stars, but he rolls with the left and gives Eddie shots to his ribs and stomach then his face, bloodying his nose.  
Eddie rushes him, shoulder down, and shoves him into a display rack. Everything on it comes down on Baary’s head, and it makes a hell of a noise.  
“You crazy, Boy?!” Ezra grabs a fistful of Eddie’s shirt and pushes him back with his forearm, old muscles corded and standing out against his skin, his other arm pulled back, meaty hand balled into a fist, ready to strike. 

Iris and Joe are there now, and Joe’s got Eddie’s arms pulled behind his back like he’s under arrest.  
“Stop it, Eddie, stop it!” Iris is shrieking.  
“Are you out of your fuckin’ mind?!” Barry yells, coming at Eddie as Ezra jumps in front of him.  
“Boss, the customers!” Barry’s fuming, but that stops him in his tracks.

Eddie, however, is not done.  
“You fucked my fiancee!”  
“Jesus Christ, Eddie,” Iris screams at him, her arms are out, palms up, pleading with him, “I told you nothing happened between us! I swear, nothing happened!” 

Oh God. “Eddie, I didn’t- I wouldn’t. “ ...try to have sex with her. Didn’t try to come between you. Didn’t try to make such a mess of things. 

“Liar!” Eddie bellows with all the power in his chest, emptying his lungs of every last gram of oxygen. “You DID! This is what you wanted, isn’t it? I should have seen it, how you were always sniffing up behind her. You’re pathetic.” Eddie spat at him. Barry flinched, more from the hatred than anything else. Luckily it missed, and landed in a gross splat on the aging floor. 

“Enough, Eddie,” Joe tells him, firm but not harsh, literally dragging him out the door.  
Eddie fixes Barry with one last withering stare. “I thought we were friends, Barry.” He calls back over his shoulder, still fighting against Joe’s hold, but less so now, “I thought we were friends!”

Barry just stands there, stock still, and watches Joe pack Eddie into the passenger side of his pickup. Eddie’s sobbing into the backs of his hands like a child. Iris is reaching in the window, grasping at him, still pleading with him. He shakes her hands off, shakes his head. He can see Joe telling her to just let him be. He gives her the keys to the other truck, and she backs away from them, dazed, staring as Joe puts his arm around Eddie to comfort him. Eddie leans into Joe’s shoulder, his own sagging and shaking. 

He watches as eventually they pull off, Eddie’s shirt stained with his blood and face red from crying.  
"Didn't know you had it in you, Kid," Ezra says, sounding somewhat impressed. He then skulks off, grumbling about spit on his floor. Barry just stands there, in shock, rooted to the spot. His eye is killing him, and he’s wondering what exactly it is he’s done. 

Iris comes back later, near closing time, to bring him an apology. In the hours that have passed, Barry’s eye has turned grotesque. Even though he can’t see out of it, he aims it at her on purpose.  
“Does your fiancé still think I fucked you?”  
She glares at him, hot enough to set him on fire. “You’re out of pocket with that. Stop it.”  
Barry sighs. “I’m sorry.”  
“Besides,” She waves her ringless hand at him. “It's nothing now.” Barry felt his heart pause in his chest.  
“Whoa. What happened? I mean, besides…today.” He couldn't lie and say he was sorry to hear about it. 

“Well originally, we wanted different things...it turns out that as much as we love each other, we're on two different paths. In the end that doesn't make for a healthy marriage. I told him that I was making the decision to do what I'm passionate about, and we argued, then I gave him his ring back. We’ve been talking it out, trying to figure out if it’s really what we want to do.  
I told him, after this past week, that I had decided, and that we weren’t getting back together. To say he took it hard is an understatement.”  
“He’s convinced that somebody had put the idea in my head. Somebody is trying to sabotage him, sabotage us. The first person he thought of was you. I’ve already been avoiding the store…” She lifted her hands palms up, and spread them. “And now he’s sort of out for your blood.”  
“So I see.”

“I never told him what you said...about having feelings for me. He just knew. Said I was cheating on him. I told him we'd never done anything, ever, that I would never cheat on him, ever. He said we were having an emotional affair then.” The silence that hung there was thick, and telling. Did she want him to deny it? To tell her no, that's not what it was? He couldn't give her that. He wouldn't give her that. 

Suddenly desperate to change the subject, Iris said, “For goodness sake, have you put anything on that eye?”  
“I've just had my head in my work all day. Haven't had time to think about it.”  
“Oh, for goodness sake,” She says again. She motions him to follow her to the back, where there’s fridge in the break area that open up to the rest of the store room. She goes into the freezer and pops open a bag of ice. 

Ice.

He sits while she hovers over him, like a nurse. She wraps a few cubes in a dishrag and rests it against his eye. “Ow!” He protests.  
“Don't be such a baby, Bear.”  
“The only time you touch me like this is when your ex-fiance punches me in the eye,” he says dryly. Iris pressed the ice against his eye, hard.  
“Oooooowwww!” Now he was really protesting.  
“What exactly did you expect me to do? I couldn't just up and leave the man I was in love with, the future father of my children. You tell me. What was I supposed to do, huh?”  
“You weren't supposed to make me fall for you. Why would you do that?” He knows he sounds ridiculous, but that's exactly what he's feeling.  
“That doesn't make any fucking sense, Barry. You're a grown ass man, I can't make you do anything!”  
“You could have held back. You could have held back some of the charm, and the flirting, and everything else. You would talk to me like you were single. You came in here seeking me out. You had a choice, Iris.”  
“I was being a FRIEND to you. I was being myself. You forget you're in business with my father. Coming here is business. Absolutely I enjoy your company. But I never came on to you. Don’t try to put this on me.”  
He looked up at her, his eyes burning her. He said slowly, gathering his courage, “So you don't have any feelings for me? You never did?” Iris paused, stunned to silence. 

Barry has an aggressive side; it rarely makes an appearance, but today all bets are off. He’d always thought it was cute how petite she was, and he uses it to make his point. He stands up, and looks down at her, feeling the need to show her how much of a man he is, to put on a display of testosterone. The top of her head barely reaches his chin, even with the extra inches the boots gave her.

“You never had any feelings for me, Iris?” His words are spoken softly, but backed with the conviction of a man with nothing to lose.  
He takes a step forward, close enough to unsettle them both, close enough to feel the energy bouncing back and forth off of them. Barry’s challenging her, daring her, goading her. He wants a confession.  
The look on her face says she’s afraid to say it. But she isn’t backing away. 

Fuck it. 

He brings his hands up, carefully, afraid she’ll startle and flee like a doe into the woods. He cups her face. He looks into her eyes as he leans down into her, closing them when he presses his lips against hers. Hers press back, and she grabs his wrists. And then something takes hold of him, and he can’t hold back.  
The next kisses are deeper, sloppier, haphazard. Careless. This is what “reckless abandon” means.  
And she’s so small. They’re smashed together and he needs better access to that mouth of hers. So he hefts her up. Her legs wrap around his waist, and carries her to the nearest stack of pallets, never once taking his lips away from hers.

It occurs to him that Ezra is still skulking around the place somewhere tonight. But he couldn’t care less about Ezra. Let him get the cheap thrill of his life. 

He sets her down, but only for a moment before he gets a better idea. He makes her turn around, elbows and knees down on the pallet. She’s wearing some sort of tights or yoga pants; he doesn’t know about these sorts of things. He just knows he wants to fuck her when he sees her wearing them, and that right now he wants them OFF. So he presses his fingers against the seam and rips, rending a huge hole in the thin fabric.  
“You bastard,” Iris laughs, breathily. 

No panties. Fuckin' hot.

Barry wastes no time. He buries his face between her legs, making good use of the fresh opening in her pants. His tongue reaches deep inside her, before teasing her folds and tickling her clit. He smacks her soundly on the ass, uses her thighs to pull her into him, sucks on her lips, moans because he just loves having Iris West on his face.  
“Oh my God, Barry, what are…? Keep doing that!”  
“What, this?” He sucks on her pussy lips and clit all at the same time, savoring the delicate smooth taste in his mouth.  
“That’s it,” Iris moans, voice high and airy, “Holy shit.”

Barry’s rock hard now, and he stands up straight, palming her cheeks, squeezing them together as Iris slides them up and down on his dick. He pulls her up with his hand under her chin, exposing her delicate neck, which he sinks his teeth into with enthusiasm. Her back is arched, she reaches up behind her and clutches the back of his neck, her nails digging in. Her other hand is on top of his, guiding him as he rubs circles over her clit. 

His cock is still between the cleft of her booty as they grind against each other, rhythmically, practicing for what’s to come. Then his cock is in between her legs, and the tips of Iris’ fingers are tickling the head. She angles her hips downward and rubs her clit against it.  
“Shiiiiiiiit,” Barry groaned, hoping and praying she’s as ready as he is.  
The rubber he keeps in his wallet is, thankfully, unexpired. It’s…been a while.

His right hand goes to her left hip as he gets it on and positions himself to enter her. Iris gets ahold to his shaft and guides him inside; she can’t wait. His head tilts backs and he sighs deep. She feels so good to him. He uses that right hand to pull her back into him as he strokes insides her, setting their pace. 

They pick up speed quickly. Their sex is frenzied, hurried, almost frantic. The pallet scrapes the floor as he thrusts into her and she answers him, their bodies colliding hard, again and again. Iris makes a sound each time, “mmm, mmm, mmm,” and it turns Barry on so much he licks his lips and fucks her harder. A can of paint falls off the thing, smacking the concrete floor with a thick thud sound. They barely notice. 

He stops for just a second as he turns her around, wanting to see her perfect face, feel her against him.  
They kiss again, exchanging breath, Iris’ nails clawing his back and upper arm.  
Barry has one hand around her waist, the other on her thigh. He lifts that thigh up, putting her leg up on her shoulder, making her lean into the wall behind her.  
Her head is thrown back and his face is in her neck as he fucks her with a year of pent-up romantic and sexual frustration behind him. He’s not sure he’s ever experienced passion like this.

“Faster,” she whimpers into his ear.  
From their sex trance they hear the door creak open.  
“Everything alright back there, Boss?”  
“Yeah,” Barry calls out, his voice clipped by Iris’ mouth on his.  
“You sure? Hey, Chuck needs you to call ‘bout the pipe.”  
That goddamn Chuck.  
“Ha ha, pipe,” Iris whispers, and Barry snorts, trying to hold his laughter and concentrate on the matter at hand.  
“I'll get to it later, Ezra!” He yells mid-stroke. Iris is whispering in his ear, telling him not to stop.  
“But Boss, the-”  
“LATER, Ezra!” Ezra says no more. The door swings shut. Iris and Barry haven’t missed a beat.  
“Don’t stop Barry,” Her voice is purring and pleading in his ear. Barry bites his lip and feels himself getting close. 

“Faster. Faster, faster. I’m ‘bout to-“ Iris lets out a muffled cry. She gasps right before her eyes roll back and her body goes stiff. “…coming,” Her legs are around the back of his knees, and she pulls him deeper into her and thrusts up at the same time.  
He goes right along with her. He blows his load so hard he sees stars in both eyes this time.  
“Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.” He growls through clenched teeth.

They both lay out on their backs, side by side. They’re sweaty, and bruised and scraped.  
Iris holds her hand up like a gun, thumb the hammer, first two fingers the barrel. She blows away imaginary smoke, and tucks it into her imaginary holster. They look at each other and laugh.

Soon it grows quiet, and serious. He rolls on to his side, reaching out to stroke her cheek with his knuckles. He didn’t think his feelings could get any deeper, and he was just so wrong. He searched her eyes, trying to find answers there. Her look was pleading, but he didn’t understand why.  
“So, where do we go from here?” There is a pause, and a heavy silence.  
“I don’t know.” Her voice is cold, and she suddenly looks away, moving her face out of his reach. “Do we go somewhere?”  
“What?” Barry pulls his hand back, confused. She won’t meet his gaze again. “Iris…” he starts, trying to contain his mounting frustration.  
She sits upright. “This is too fast. This is too soon. I shouldn’t have…” Her face is in her hands. “A week ago I was engaged. What am I doing?” The words squeak out from between her palms. “Oh God. This was a mistake.” 

It feels like she daggered him. “Don’t say that.” He tries to take her hand. “Nothing about this is a mistake. Look at me.”  
“Don’t, don’t do that, don’t…” She snatches her hand away. She still won’t look at him. She gathers her keys, her phone. She checks the screen and becomes even more distraught. It must be Eddie.  
“Iris, let’s talk about this.” She’s already barreling toward the door, ripped pants and all. “We need to talk about this. Iris.”  
“Stay away from me, Barry.” She’s in her truck and she takes off fast, the pickup kicking up rocks at front of the store building. 

He’s made a mess of things. His emotions are tumbling, damp laundry in a hot dryer. His feelings have only gotten deeper, now that sex has been introduced. Now that sex has been introduced, he wants to do it again. A lot. But much more importantly, she doesn’t want to be near him and it breaks his heart all over again. He’d gladly trade in the sex, as amazing as it was, to be able to be near her. He would rather have her screaming at him, just so he could at least have her attention.  
He’s been calling and calling and calling, sending her a million texts begging her to just say something, say anything. He ’s never been to her house, and has no idea how to get there, otherwise he’d be on his way right now. He’s frustrated. She won’t talk to him, won’t listen. He hates it.

He gets upstairs somehow. He doesn’t turn on any lights. He sits on his couch, staring into complete darkness. For the first time since his confession, his emotions overtake him, and now it’s his turn to cry. It really hurts his shiner, but it doesn’t matter. He snatches up one of the pillows and crushes it to him, and realizes how alone he is. He sobs into it, chest shaking, his face twisted and ugly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is my favorite chapter just because of all the raw emotion in it. I really enjoyed writing Eddie's breakdown after the fight. and of course the angsty sex, Iris being torn, and Barry finally letting his feelings out.
> 
> I actually started writing this a while ago, and brainstormed the part about Jealous!Eddie punching the shit out of Barry for pushing up on Iris before it became canon. I guess the writers and I think alike on some things!


	9. Chapter 9

Another few days passed, mired in tension. Then Joe came in and pulled Barry aside. “Talked to Iris?” He asked. Barry was instantly on high alert.  
“She’s been avoiding me.” But she’s been on his mind every minute, especially with the date of her departure coming up fast.  
“That was some move you made, telling her how you felt about her.” He’s gonna bury my body  
in the concrete foundation of his next house, Barry thought, his life flashing before his eyes. “What made you decide to do that?”

“I, um, if I’m being honest, Joe, Sir, if I’m being completely honest, I’ve never felt anything like that before. What I feel for Iris, I mean.” He slid his palm down over his face and sighed. “I didn’t want to disrespect her relationship with Eddie or make anyone uncomfortable, but when she told me she was leaving I knew I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t get it out.” Joe looked around and nodded, and Barry couldn’t tell if it was an I-feel-you nod, or an I’m-about-to knock-you-out-for-that-bullshit nod. So he just kept on talking. 

“It was rough for me growing up, and lonely. I’ve spent too much time in my life missing out on having human connections. You guys are the first friends I think I’ve ever had. And Iris…she’s the first person I’ve ever met that cared about me so much since I lost my family. She means the world to me. Enough for me to…cause all of this, I guess. I had to tell her.”

“You mean to tell me Ezra isn’t your BFF?” Joe asked. Barry looked a question at him. “That was a joke, Barry, relax.” He continued. “I’ve watched you be in love with Iris for quite some time.”  
“Was it that obvious?” His hands went to the back of his neck.  
“Not to her.”  
“I don’t know what to do. I messed everything up. I’m so ashamed. She hates me now. You probably hate me, too.”  
“No, not at all, Son.” Joe laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I think life is messy. And I think you did your best. Trust me, I know how wonderful Iris is. You would be crazy not to be crazy about her.” He chuckled.  
“What should I do, Joe?”  
“You know how stubborn Iris is. You can’t force her to do anything. Just give her some time to think. She has some big decisions to make in her life right now. But I have a feeling she’ll come around, and no matter what happens things will work out for the best.”

Joe gets back to the construction site and finds Iris furiously shooting a nail gun into a two by four. “How you feeling, Baby Girl?”  
“I feel like shit. This has turned into a disaster.” She hangs her head, and the nail gun dangles limply in her fingers.  
“How so?”  
“I thought I had everything figured out. Perfect career opportunity, finishing up my degree, in love with the perfect man who was going to become my perfect husband, surrounded by great friends-“ That meant Barry- “and here I am just throwing it all away.”  
“Don’t forget your amazing, loving, father.”  
“Well, of course, that goes without saying.” She smiled at him. “Dad, I was out doing stupid stuff and Eddie was texting me saying, I’m sorry, and I love you, I want to work things out, please come home. I’m so ashamed.” Barry was screwing her brains out at the time, but she left that out for obvious reasons. “Do you think I messed everything up?” She asked, tears in her eyes.

“Sweetheart.” Joe gathered her in his arms. “I think Eddie’s in love with you, and he wants to marry you, and if you really want to work things out, you could. He would welcome you back with open arms. It would require a lot of apologies and a lot of sacrifice from both sides. But you need to be sure, because you broke it off with him for a reason. And I mean, Barry-“  
“Oh God, Dad, don’t bring Barry up.”  
“I’m just saying I think you ought to talk to him.”  
“What could there possibly be to say?” “I don’t know and I don’t need to know. That’s between the two of you. But I don’t think you should leave this thing…unattended. It took some balls for him to tell you how he felt, knowing it could backfire.”  
He went on. “You know how much I care about Eddie, like a son. I know you love him. But to be honest, I see something a little different with Barry. More…intensity?” He makes a face.”I can’t tell you how weird it feels to say that, as your father. But Baby, everything in life doesn’t happen the way it’s “supposed” to, but-“  
“-it all happens for a reason,” she finished.  
“Look, that man is in love with you, madly in love with you. And I think as much as you’re trying to wish it away, you’re feeling a lot of the same things. The timing couldn’t have been worse but we can’t tell love what to do and when to appear and when to disappear.”

“What do I do?”  
“Just talk to the man, and know that it will be messy, but you’ll get things put right.”  
“Okay Dad,” Iris says, “I think I will.” She’s looking out of the window, into the distance, and Joe knows she’s already thinking of what she’s going to say.


	10. Chapter 10

That night Barry wakes up to a rapping noise on his window.   
What the-? He looks out and sees HER standing there, hand full of pebbles. His heart does a backflip.   
“Barry, I need…can I talk to you?” Now his heart is doing an Olympic gold medal-worthy gymnastic floor exercise.   
“Okay, one second, wait just one second, I’ll be right down.”

He tries and fails to fix his hair. He tries and fails to straighten up a bit around his bachelor pad. Nope, not working. He comes down and opens the door for her. “Iris, wha- what are you doing here?” The night is cool and it cuts straight through his thin shirt, makes his skin prickle, and the hair on his arms stand on end. The wind whips Iris’ hair, blowing strands across her eyes and lips. Her arms are crossed, maybe from the cold or maybe from apprehension. Something about the chill seems appropriate for the situation.  
“Can I come up?”  
“Of course.” He opens the door and ushers her in, ahead of him. 

“Welcome to the palace.” The stairs creak and groan as she climbs them.   
“I like it.” The place is older and worn, but comfortable, like an old shoe. “It’s clear that a single man lives here,” she says, gesturing towards the empty Hot Pockets boxes and lack of decor.  
“Hey, they’re garbage but they cost like two dollars a box and take two minutes to heat up.” His shyness kicks in. “Would you like to sit? Can I get you something? Water maybe? It’s filtered. I have one of those filter thingies.” He's having trouble thinking clearly, remembering all the things he needs to say to her,now that she's here in front of him, close enough to feel her touch again. It's all he wants, the only thing consuming his thoughts right now. He's doing his best not to implode. 

Iris sits. “Water would be great, thank you.” He brings her a giant plastic Taco Bell tumbler that she can barely hold in her tiny hands. “Definitely the home of a single man.” She takes a deep breath, and launches.  
“Barry I’m just so sorry, for taking off on you like I did. It wasn’t your fault, it was me. I was overwhelmed. My breakup with Eddie is still brand new, and I’m trying to get over the shock, and I needed some comfort, and a distraction, and if I’m being honest, an orgasm. I kind of used you.”  
“I guess there are worse ways to be used,” he offered, smiling weakly.  
“Something else has been bothering me too. You need to know this. You’re not a rebound, do you understand? You’re too important. You’re special to me. That’s not how I would have wanted things to start, like some hookup. That’s not how you do it when something’s truly meaningful.”

“Iris,” his brow furrows,“what are you saying?”  
She twists her lower lip over her teeth. “I guess what I’m saying is, you were right.” Her shoulders lift and drop. “I did have feelings for you, I do have feelings for you, that maybe I didn’t realize were there.” Barry’s body starts to tingle, just a little bit. “Maybe I was in denial. I couldn’t afford to fall in love with another man in my situation, so I chose to ignore it. But now, I don’t want to ignore it. I can’t. Is there any way, can we maybe, figure out a way to start over?” 

He sat back against his couch, wrapping his mind around what she said. It’s the best news he’s heard this century. But…  
“You know what, Iris? I don’t want to start over. The way we got here was really rough, really rough, but, I don’t want to act like you didn’t walk into my store one day and knock the wind out of me. Or that we didn’t get to spend all that time together becoming friends first. Seeing how caring you are, how tough, how knowledgeable. I wouldn’t change it. I mean, I didn't want our, our first time to be the way it was. You deserve better.”   
Her eyebrows go up and her lips turn down at the corners. “Well, if I’m being honest, it was pretty damn good.”  
“It was?” That perks him up.  
“Yeah. And it’ll be better next time.”  
He looks over at her. 

Next time?

And it was. Naturally, they end up in his bed. This time he learns where to touch her, where to taste her, and each individual response from her body when he does it right. At some point he incorporates that ice. And when she does the same for him… It feels so good, he starts plotting how he can make a home for himself in between her legs.

After they lay just talking. They’re on their stomachs, with the sheets pulled up over their heads like kids at a slumber party. The subjects they touch upon are intimate, deep, revealing. Barry feels exposed, but in a good, safe way. He pretends to make fun of her when she tells him an embarrassing story, and the way she twists her face up in self-deprecation is the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He gathers her in his arms and kisses her nose. 

He loves her. He’s never felt anything like this before. In two weeks she would walk out of his life. He can’t let her go.   
Iris straddles him and lays down with her head on his chest.   
“Your heart,” she mumbles,”It’s so fast.” She’s asleep. 

She wakes up to his morning wood tickling her thigh. She decides to do something about it, and the sex that follows is slow, and lazy, and comfortable. When she’s riding him, her hair a mess, the sheets bunched around her, and her perfect skin catching the morning sunlight and making a hazy halo around her, he understands what it means to make love to someone.   
When they’re both spent she’s lying on his chest again. 

“I want to come with you.”  
“You want to what?”  
“Come with you. To Spain.”  
“Barry, are you crazy?”  
“Yeah. Definitely am.”  
“And you’re saying you want to come with me, to be with me.”  
“That’s what I’m saying.” He laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, and went further. “You weren't supposed to marry that guy. It's supposed to be me.”

She smiled and there were tears in her eyes. “How can you be so sure-“ He flips her over, onto her back, and holds himself over her.   
“I've never been so sure about anything. I can't explain how I know, I just do.” She smooths her hands over his biceps, his shoulders, his cheeks. He closed his eyes and nuzzled his face into her palms.   
“What about your store?”  
He didn’t even open his eyes. “What about it?” He was on a roll.  
“You can't just leave it behind.”  
“Yeah I can. I have staff that I trust. They'll run it for me just as good as if I was still here. That's the beauty of being an entrepreneur. I think Ezra’s due for a raise. He definitely thinks he’s due for a raise.”

She took a deep breath and wiped a tear with the back of her hand.  
“Okay.”  
“Okay?” He looked down at her.  
“I can't believe I'm saying this, but okay.”  
“Okay,” Barry echoed. He looked at her lovely face, and knew it was right. He took her hand and kissed it.

“Shit, I'm gonna have to learn Spanish.”  
Iris laughs at him, and he laughs at himself with her, and he lays his rangy body over her petite frame, and they fall back into a deep, contented sleep.


	11. Epilogue Pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, y’all asked for it. I’m gonna fluff the shit out of you. I’m gonna fluff you to DEATH. 
> 
> Plus today is my BIRTHDAY and one of my gifts to myself is finishing up & posting some WIP’s! Happy birthday to me!!
> 
> To my Spanish speakers; you’re going to get the jump on the story! ;) Sorry about my grammar, I’m still learning and I’ve got a long way to go!

It’s been a year. 

Barry’s been having the experience of his life. Getting out of Central City has been eye-opening, and he’s gotten a brand new perspective. 

He studies Spanish for hours every day. He’s gotten to be okay, but still struggles a lot with listening comprehension because the words seem to come so fast from native speakers. 

It’s hard for him to get over his shyness in English, so of course in another language it’s worse. He usually lets Iris do the talking, but feels a deep sense of pride when he’s able to get his point across or hold a short conversation. 

He uses his go-to phrases with frequency. 

Más despacio, por favor. Slower, please. 

Lo siento, no entiendo. I’m sorry, I don’t understand.

Repita, ¿por favor? Repeat that, please?

He can read just fine, so oftentimes he draws out his well-used notepad and writes down what he wants to say, and gestures for them to write their response (Escríbalo, por favor), because it comes so much faster when he can see it. 

He doesn’t actually have to work at all, but he’s so accustomed to it that he finds a part-time job teaching English to first graders just to keep himself occupied. 

As it turns out, he loves his kids. They teach him more every day than he could ever teach them. it’s the most fulfilling thing he’s ever done, even more so than owning the store. Owning the store is satisfying, and gives him the ability to do what he wants to do, but it doesn’t make him feel the same sense of being energized, of feeling love. 

And Iris…

She is, without a doubt, the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He shows her every chance he gets.  
She often jokes about being a brat, and he prides himself on that. 

But it goes both ways, he thinks. She holds him. She listens to him. She supports him. She doesn’t judge him. She tells him how sexy he is, and she shows it when they get behind closed doors by fucking him blind. 

Naturally, he can’t get enough. He tries to get her in bed (or on the counter, or on the couch) at least once a day, if not twice. She giggles as she pushes him off of her, telling him how she can’t keep up, and he tells her it can’t be helped. He just can’t resist her. 

When she tells him she loves him, smiling and batting her eyelashes, it makes him melt.

They’ve gotten drunk under the Eiffel Tower, they’ve eaten the brownies in Amsterdam, visited the vatican in Rome, explored London, Dublin, Berlin, Lisbon, with plans to start traveling in Asia. 

At home the life they live is very peaceful and content, just existing day-to-day, (as it turns out, he does do a fair amount of the cooking, and Iris does a lot of work on the house) talking about teaching, practicing Spanish, laying out on the beaches (Iris always turns heads).  
They rarely argue. When they do it doesn’t last very long (Iris is always right, even when she isn’t right). When they make up it’s nothing short of explosive. 

To say Barry’s been satisfied is an understatement. He’s ready to ask her to marry him, but he’s holding off for now. He wants to be sure that she’s ready, that it’s what she wants, too. 

One particularly calm afternoon they’re shopping at an open food market. Iris speaks to everyone, rapid fire, and Barry just practices listening. One vendor they’re familiar with. She and Iris exchange pleasantries, and she greets Barry as well, saying, “Hello, how are you?” the extent of her English skills. He gives her a shy smile. She and Iris continue. Barry can pick out certain words; manzanas. Apples. ¿cuántas? How many? 

As the apples go in a bag she asks Iris. ¿Estás embarazada? Iris pauses and gives her a quizzical look.  
¿Cómo? which in this context, Barry understands to mean, “come again?”  
The woman repeats herself, softly. ¿Estás embarazada?  
Iris mouth falls open and she covers it with the palm of her hand. Then her face scrunches up, and she seems near tears, and she nods.  
The woman chortles and goes on, and Iris nods again, and kind of laughing herself. She puts a finger to her lips, asking her to keep it a secret, from what he could gather. The lady wags her finger at Barry and says more to Iris, which makes her blush and giggle. 

Of course, he’s confused.  
“What are you embarrassed about?” He asks as they move on.  
“What? I’m not embarrassed about anything.” Barry ins’t convinced. She’s obviously embarrassed about something or another.  
“Isn’t that what you told Maria?”  
The strange look came back. “It’s kind of a weird situation. I’ll tell you about it later.”

Later finds them sitting on the beach, watching the sun go down. Iris is wrapped in a thin blanket, looking wistfully out at the ebbing and flowing water. Barry’s leaning back on his palms, introspective. Iris starts talking, continuing to look at the water instead of him. 

“Embarazada is what we call a ‘false friend’ in language learning, meaning it sounds so much like a word in your own language that it fools you, because it doesn’t actually mean the same thing.”  
“So what does it mean?”  
“It means I have something I need to tell you.” She seemed nervous. “I’m not really sure how you’re going to take it, but…”  
“What is it, Iris? You’re making me nervous. You’re not sick, are you?”  
“Embarazada means pregnant. I’m pregnant.”  
“You’re…” 

Iris presses her lips together, folding them in between her teeth.“Mm hmm.” She nods slowly.  
“Maria said that I had a light in me. The kind of light that only women can get, when they’re about to bring new life into the world. Poetic, right?” Barry says nothing, he just tries to process. “I told her I’d just found out, and it was a secret, and I was going to tell you soon, probably today.”  
She pulled out a picture in black and white, and pointed at the teeny blob in the center. 

That was his blob. His precious little blob.

It was a good thing he was already sitting. In that instant he felt a seismic shift occur, in how he viewed the world, in how he viewed his place in it. 

He leaned back and fell heavily in the sand, letting it cushion his fall, his long legs splayed straight out. He would have been totally spread eagle except for the one hand holding the picture flat to his chest.

A whole family, just for him. Holy shit. He felt suddenly drunk, giddy. 

Iris reaches for the picture, but he’s having none of it. They play wrestle over it- “This is MY blob, Woman!”-rolling around in the warm sand, until Barry calls it, suddenly concerned.  
“I’m not gonna break, you know.” She’s on her side, playing in his hair.  
But he doesn’t know that for sure, doesn’t trust it. Iris is fine china now. His ear is pressed to her tummy, arms wrapped tight around her thighs.  
“You don’t feel anything yet?”  
“I’m six weeks. I’m not supposed to feel anything for a few months, I think.”  
“That’s too long to have to wait.”  
“So you’re happy?” Iris asks quietly. She just needs to hear him say it out loud.  
“Iris, I’m way beyond happy. Happy isn’t the word. I think the word is,” he searches for one, but can’t quite find it. None seem to really capture the magnitude of what he’s feeling. So he settles for the closest thing.  
“…I need this baby, I need it, and I need you.”  
He gently pulls back her flowing blouse to expose her skin. For now it’s still taut, but not for long. He spreads his hand over her skin, cooled by the ocean breeze, his palm only inches away from his future.  
“What do you think, do you want a boy or a girl?”  
“Iris, I don’t give a damn what it is.”  
“Don’t swear in front of her, Barry!”  
“So she’s a she?” He looked up at her, eyes twinkling.  
“We won’t know for for a while.”  
“I think we know. It sounds right.”  
“I love you,” she whispers to him, as she holds his face in her hands and gazes straight into his soul.  
His eyes fall shut. He wants to always remember this moment.


	12. Epilogue pt 2

Barry has his students make and color big boards and organizes them, so that they know who is saying what and when. One of them leads Iris into the little classroom, his tiny fingers clutching hers, with a big grin on his face (that happens to be missing two front teeth). Iris is bent over trying to follow the little one as fast as she can, while the others are ready to hold up their signs. 

He told them to yell as loud as they possibly could, and he wasn’t gonna need to make that request twice. They bungle the order a bit, but that only makes it extra cute. 

“Will!” “You!” “Marry!” “Me!”

Barry is of course on one knee, with of course a gorgeous ring that’s perfect for Iris, and of course she tearfully says yes. They eat graham crackers and do the chicken dance in celebration. 

“Do you think we should give her a Spanish name?” By this time it’s been confirmed. The blob is a girl. They Skype with Joe and Iris shows him her swelling tummy and the most up-to-date ultrasound, and Joe is just so excited he could sing. 

In her eighth month Iris’ teenagers throw her a baby shower, eager to celebrate and learn about an American tradition. 

Barry even sends his dad a letter, with a copy of one of the ultrasound pictures, and one of him and Iris. He gets a letter back, after a couple of weeks. 

“I can’t even tell you how excited I am! Iris is such a lovely young lady, you done good, Son! The pictures are hanging proudly on my wall. Me, a father-in-law and grandpa. Wow. 

You’re going to experience all the wonder and joy that your mother and I did when you were born. And the love you’ll feel for this baby will never go away. My love for you has never changed, not once.  
You’re going to be a world-class dad. 

Just send me a picture of the little bugger every once and again, would ya?

love, Dad.”  


Barry doesn't let Iris see how emotional it makes him. Despite all of his issues with his father, the letter still means the world to him. 

Joe sends a big pile of baby gifts all the way from Central City. Since he can’t physically be there with his grandbaby, the least he can do is spend copious amounts of money on her until he can get a trip planned. They even get a card from Ezra that makes them exchange a look. He’s written a few words in it, but they can’t make out his chicken scratch. But it means so much that he tried. 

What they’re not expecting is a beautifully wrapped box tucked in amidst all the others with a card attached. It’s from Eddie. He’s still a good guy, to the end. the little card has “Congratulations!” written in, with a goofy buck-toothed smiley face. 

Iris is smiling at first, then she bursts into tears, stands up and waddles away, into the bedroom, and shuts the door behind her. When Barry comes in she’s sitting cross-legged on the floor with her face in her palms, and sobbing over this card, and it worries Barry terribly, and makes him feel an ocean of hurt.  
Is she regretting her decision? Does she miss him? Does she feel like this should be happening with Eddie and not with him?

He stands in the doorway, looking down at her and scratching the back of his neck, unsure of what to do. They can’t take this back. They’re eight months in, not to mention thousands of miles away and he’s put a ring on it.

If she is feeling like this is a mistake, does he really want to know? His stomach turns thinking about it.  
“Iris…” He says her name softly, almost too soft to hear. His expression projecting his confusion at her, he asks, “Why…?”  
She sniffles and hiccups. “Okay, I’m going to be very honest with you.”  
He doesn’t like the sound of that.  
“I’m crying partly because, Eddie’s such an amazing person, still sweet and caring and humble and loving. This is why I was going to marry him. He reminded me of that. I hate what I did to him. It probably broke his heart to do this, and he’s still being the bigger person despite all that. I just…I wish him all the happiness in the world, because he deserves it.” She mops at her eyes with the already saturated tissue. Barry looks down at the ground, stomach twisting in knots. 

“But you know what, I’m meant to be here, with you, living out my dream. I wake up to the most important person in the world every morning, even if his hair does look crazy and he snores like a buzz saw,” Barry smiles despite himself, “and I’m excited to get to my dream job every morning. And now I’m making a new person with the most important person in the world.”

“I would have been content with Eddie, and I wouldn’t have wanted for anything, but what I felt for Eddie can’t compare to what I feel for you.” He looks at her, and their eyes meet, and he sees that she means it, all the way down to her bones. 

“I’m meant to be carrying the Allen name, the Allen baby. This is how it’s supposed to be. So part of the reason I’m crying is because I know without a doubt that I made the right decision.

And another part is that it’s all being amplified by hormones.”

“Thank God.” He sits down next to her, arm around her shoulders, and pulls her in to him so he can kiss her forehead. 

Iris goes into labor early on a Saturday morning. The birth reflects, as much as a birth possibly can anyhow, the calm and quiet and peace in their lives. 

After several hours, Barry’s gently telling her she’s almost there and to push, and the doctor’s telling her what he’s pretty sure is the same thing in Spanish, and Iris is crushing Barry’s hand, pushing, and the baby is coming, like, really coming, and then she’s there, on Iris’ belly, protesting because this whole process of eviction just isn’t fair and it’s doggone cold out here.

She gets dried off, and Iris holds her for the first time, and then Barry gets to hold her. 

And he’s in love. 

At Barry’s request, they name her after his mother. He knows Iris doesn’t particularly like Nora as a name, but she know how much it means to him so she enthusiastically agrees that should be the baby’s name. That’s one of the reasons Barry loves her so much.

Maybe there are seven billion human beings already on the planet, and maybe new ones arrive every minute, but not a single one of them can match Nora Allen, in her father’s humble opinion.  
“Hey, Blob,” he whispers, smiling down at her.  
“Don’t have my baby thinking her name is Blob, Barry Allen.” Iris scolds, faking seriousness.  
“Don’t tell your mom, but I’m gonna call you Blob. At least for a little while.”  
“I heard that.”

Nora's parents are giving her her first bath at home. They take their time because they're new at this, and she's so tiny and precious. Nora takes it all in stride, nodding off a bit halfway through. 

Barry kisses Iris' neck. "Now this is what I call a happy ending."

She snorts and gives him a cheeky look. "endings are for the movies, Bear. This is our happy beginning.”

Nora grips his fingertip, and all he can do is smile.

**Author's Note:**

> OMG you guys, I can't even lie, I am so proud of this one! I honestly think this is my best work of fan fiction yet, and I really love the progress I'm making. 
> 
> I hope you love it! Let me know what you think! : D


End file.
